


A Look, Recognized

by ChalkLetters



Category: Leverage
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27249628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChalkLetters/pseuds/ChalkLetters
Summary: Parker and Hardison love Eliot equally. He knows that, which is why it doesn't matter that only Parker expresses that affection physically. If Hardison's not into guys that way, Eliot can learn to live without. He can keep a distance between them, the same way he always has.And if, in a private moment, Eliot misses the physical reality of being with another man, then he's never been afraid to take matters into his own hands.When Hardison catches him at it, Eliot's world wobbles on its axis. Maybe that unspoken boundary isn't as firm as both men believed!
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 13
Kudos: 243





	A Look, Recognized

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Winter Song (To You)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3720895) by [letsgostealafandom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsgostealafandom/pseuds/letsgostealafandom). 



When Eliot, Parker, and Hardison had gotten together, they’d mutually agreed that any two of them sleeping together was not only allowed but encouraged. So Hardison and Parker would stay in bed for a long, slow screw after Eliot got up for his morning workout. Or Parker would ride Eliot on the couch while Hardison was busy hacking his way into the accounts of their latest criminal target. 

Hardison and Eliot never touched unless Parker was between them. Or at least, not more than they’d touched  _ before _ entering into this relationship. Hugs, fistbumps, and their own personal secret handshake were still a regular occurrence. 

And it was fine. Eliot knew Hardison  _ loved  _ him, which was so much more than he’d ever expected that it didn’t matter if Hardison wasn’t into guys that way. 

Eliot made monumental efforts not to let his gaze track the slide of Hardison’s loose running pants down his slim hips. He tried not to think about the sounds Hardison made when Parker had him pinned against the bedroom wall. 

It was enough that Hardison’s fingers laced through Eliot’s while they both gripped Parker’s hips. Watching Hardison fall apart when Parker did that thing with her tongue was more than Eliot had ever imagined he would have. 

And if, sometimes, Eliot missed the physical reality of being with another man… Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken matters into his own hands. 

A month-long job in London had them all living more than ever in one another’s pockets. Stupidly, they’d rented an expensive apartment without ever seeing it in person. The square footage had left a lot to be desired. 

Not that Eliot  _ minded _ being squashed up against Parker and Hardison every night. Privacy had long been an optional extra for the three of them.

A week after their return to Portland, Eliot had their penthouse to himself. Parker was out meeting Peggy’s new boyfriend, sending Hardison off to fetch some new climbing equipment. 

Eliot had already checked in with the restaurant staff, leaving him with nothing but time and unaccustomed privacy on his hands. 

He stripped efficiently, making sure the door to ‘his’ bedroom was closed. They each had their own room, though they spent most of their nights in what was officially Parker’s bed. 

As he groped at the back of a drawer, Eliot felt anticipation sizzle up his spine. He tossed everything he’d need onto his bedside table, then flopped down against the mattress. Legs spread, he wrapped his fingers around his cock, breath coming in ragged gasps as it rapidly hardened against his palm. 

Eliot could flick the bottle of lube open with one hand, smearing it across his fingers and biting back a groan. Even the  _ idea  _ of touching himself this way was enough to make his heart pound. A month had been too long, that was damn sure. 

With one hand still working his cock, Eliot reached the other between his legs. Two fingers circled his hole, pressing just hard enough to roughen Eliot’s voice as he swore under his breath. 

After a month of neglect, every nerve-ending felt ten times more sensitive. As he pressed one calloused finger past the ring of muscle, Eliot felt his stomach jolt. His lips parted on a moan. Why fight it when there was nobody home to hear him? 

Eliot’s toes curled against the sheets as he opened himself up on one finger. He allowed his focus to narrow until all he could feel was the pleasure rushing through his veins. All he could hear was the sharp huff of air through his nostrils. 

He twisted the hand on his cock, tightening his fingers around the base. He could come just from this, and he knew it, but he wasn’t ready. 

Drawing his knee tight against his chest, Eliot nudged a second finger alongside the first. The muscles in his neck strained as he let his head fall back. 

“Oh god, oh fuck.” 

“Oh, lord!” 

Eliot’s eyes flew open, whole body snapping taut as a garotte. Hardison stood framed in the doorway, leaning forward like someone had paused a video recording. 

Shame flared in the pit of Eliot’s stomach, the hand on his cock going slack. He could feel his pulse, rabbit-quick against his ribs, lungs burning from too many too shallow breaths. 

Maybe that was why he couldn’t move. Eliot didn’t jump to his feet, didn’t slam the door or punch Hardison in his stupid face. 

Time stood still, giving Eliot ample opportunity to burn Hardison’s expression into his memory. The disbelief and confusion and… something else. Something Eliot  _ understood _ . 

There was a tension to the way Hardison held himself, a kind of frozen fire in his eyes. Eyes that resolutely fixed on Eliot’s face. 

Eliot knew what it was to lock his gaze firmly above the neck. He’d done it enough times himself when Hardison wandered through their apartment in nothing but a too-small towel. 

A crazy,  _ impossible _ , unbearable idea tugged at the corner of Eliot’s mind. Bitter adrenaline caught at the back of his mouth. 

“Hardison.” 

Eliot’s world wobbled on its axis, and yet nothing appeared to change. Eliot still had one hand on his dick, two fingers up his ass. 

“Alec,” he tried. “You can lock.” 

Hardison’s gaze dropped by degrees. Eliot swore he could  _ feel _ it branding the hollow of his throat, down the center of his chest. Hardison swallowed, some of the tension finally melting from his face. 

“So, what, you were - experimenting?” Hardison asked. Eliot snorted. He was a long way past experimentation! Eliot knew his body, knew what he liked. 

“Just satisfying a need,” he answered, still acutely aware of Hardison’s gaze locked between his legs. 

The other man took a step forward, his brow creased in confusion. 

“You need this?” 

Anger boiled in Eliot’s veins. “So what if I do?!” He’d never asked for more than Hardison could give, not once. Why did it matter what he did on his own time? 

Hardison clicked his tongue, making a gesture with his hands that was supposed to be soothing. “I just meant… we take care of each other’s needs, right?” 

Completely undaunted by Eliot’s best scowl, Hardison took another step. The mattress dipped under the weight of one knee. He was close enough that Eliot could have shot one foot out and broken Hardison’s nose. Instead, he grunted what could have been an assent. 

The pause grew heavy between them. Eliot’s breathing had returned to almost normal. Close enough, anyway, for every breath he drew to be in sync with Hardison. 

When it came, Hardison’s voice was low. “So, you could let me. Or Parker.” 

Hope twisted around Eliot’s heart, brief and bright. “Parker’s not here,” he pointed out. He and Parker had never played like this. Not because Eliot thought she would refuse him something that he wanted, but because he’d worried she wouldn’t understand that asking Hardison might breach the unspoken boundary he and Eliot negotiated. 

Hardison was close enough that Eliot could smell his body spray, his fingers brushing the sheet beside Eliot’s foot. “Is that a yes?” 

And Eliot knew, without being told, that Hardison needed him to say it. He wouldn’t push this on Eliot anymore than Eliot would have risked asking Hardison for something he didn’t want to give. 

Wincing, Eliot twisted his fingers free, balling both hands in the sheets, not quite trusting himself not to grab Hardison if he came any nearer. “Yeah.” 

Shared tension radiated between them, hope and despair balanced on a knife-edge. Hardison’s body flowed against Eliot’s, the touch there and then gone. When he pulled back, he brandished the bottle of lube triumphantly between two fingers. 

Eliot couldn’t watch. Just imagining Hardison spreading slick down those long, clever fingers was enough to make his world go hazy. He focused, instead, on the fabric of Hardison’s t-shirt, the way it clung to the valley between his pecs. 

And then one warm hand was braced against his knee, rolling Eliot back against the pillows, his ass lifting from the bed. Eliot closed his eyes and breathed deep, his cock thickening with interest before Hardison had even touched him. 

When it came, the touch was less tentative than Eliot had expected. Hardison’s finger sank past the loosened muscle, making Eliot bite his lip hard enough to taste the copper tang of blood. 

He rocked forward, a tiny pulse with his hips that pressed him harder onto Hardison’s finger. Everywhere they touched, Eliot could feel electricity. It was one month since he’d touched himself like this; he didn’t even know how long since it had been anyone else stimulating those sensitive nerve-endings. 

Body aching for more, Eliot grunted. 

“I got you.” Hardison pulled back, sliding a second slick finger in alongside the first. The stretch in Eliot’s muscles made his whole body shake. Together, they found a rhythm, Hardison fucking Eliot with two fingers as Eliot drove his hips to meet him. 

A third finger pressing firmly against his hole made Eliot bite back a cry. But Hardison didn’t stop, didn’t even slow. He just pushed forward, giving Eliot no choice but to take it. 

His heart was racing, pounding against his ribs. This was really happening! Loosing his fingers from the sheets, Eliot transferred his grip to the fabric of Hardison’s shirt. 

Together, they rocked, every thrust sending sparks skittering across Eliot’s skin. Emotionally, it was almost too much. Having Hardison touch him like this, Hardison’s fingers sure and certain as they made Eliot see stars. And yet physically, it was nowhere near enough! 

“You want more?” Hardison seemed almost to read his mind. “Want my cock, Eliot?” 

A wordless cry had slipped from Eliot’s mouth before he could even think about calling it back. And then Hardison grinned, making Eliot’s stomach turn a somersault inside him. 

He did bite back a whimper when Hardison’s fingers vanished, leaving Eliot suddenly cold and empty. Before he could make up his mind whether or not to sulk about it, Hardison had freed his shirt from Eliot’s fingers, pulling it up over his head. 

“Yeah,” Eliot breathed, eyes widening. He’d seen Hardison shirtless. Hell, he’d seen Hardison naked and hard and fucking Parker for everything he was worth. But this was  _ different _ . 

Hardison smirked like he knew it, too. “Keep yourself open for me.” The words melted like wax over Eliot’s skin, leaving sharp points of blazing heat all over him. 

Eliot would never admit that he blushed as he pressed two fingers back into his hole. Sex had never before made him feel vulnerable like this, knowing Hardison was  _ watching _ as he obediently fingered himself. 

There was plenty for Eliot to watch, at least. Hardison wiping his lube-slick fingers on the sheets, Hardison palming the bulge at the front of his jeans. A bulge that Eliot had caused. 

Time stretched itself paper thin as Hardison opened his belt buckle, sliding the leather through the loops of his jeans inch by excruciating inch. Eliot wet his lips at the dark patch showing on Hardison’s boxers once he’d finally eased his pants’ zipper down. 

Twisting his fingers inside him, Eliot groaned at the stretch, then smirked at the way Hardison’s movements had faltered. It was a rush, knowing that  _ he _ had the power to make Hardison lose his focus, if only for a moment. 

Finally, Hardison pushed his boxers down, letting his hard cock spring free to slap against his stomach. Saliva pooled under Eliot’s tongue. It was all he could do not to spring forward and take Hardison into his mouth. 

He pulled his fingers free, pressing his lips together hard to prevent a whimper from escaping at how empty it left him. 

“Come on,” he growled, once he was sure his voice wouldn’t betray him by wavering. 

The words spurred Hardison into action, his big hands pushing Eliot’s thighs open to make room for his long, lithe body between them. 

With far more care than Eliot thought necessary, Hardison guided the tip of his cock to Eliot’s hole. Their groans twined together, a single expression of joint pleasure. Eliot’s legs locked around Hardison’s hips, muscles that could choke a grown man instead put to the use of dragging Hardison closer. 

His cock filled Eliot up, pleasure spreading through him in steady waves until he felt Hardison’s hips snug against his ass. Hardison’s moan shivered out of him, shattering and beautiful. Eliot had caused that! 

He rocked, his fists wrapped in the sheets for leverage, fucking himself on Hardison’s cock. Hardison surged to meet him, pulling back enough that Eliot could feel his muscles tighten around empty air. 

Hardison’s hips snapped forward, plunging his cock as deep as Eliot could take it. A harsh breath that might or might not have bordered on a primal scream left Eliot’s lips. 

The boundary between their two bodies shrank, blurring into nothingness, until Eliot could hardly tell where his pleasure ended and Hardison’s began. They rocked together, joined, Eliot’s palms flat against Hardison’s ass while Hardison cradled the back of Eliot’s head. 

When Hardison leaned forward to kiss him, Eliot returned the favor, biting at Hardison’s lips until his lover gasped at the fusion of pain and pleasure. 

“Come for me.” There was no telling who had breathed the words, but Hardison’s free hand wrapped around Eliot’s cock, his dextrous fingers massaging the sensitive head. 

Blinding pleasure speared Eliot’s body like lightning. Every muscle clamped, squeezing tight for an instant before Eliot gave in. His climax roared through him, leaving behind sparks of pleasure so intense they bordered on pain. 

Hardison was still fucking him, his hips pinning Eliot to the bed on every stroke. Sweat beaded his skin under Eliot’s fingers, collecting in the small of his back as Hardison poured every ounce of exertion into his movements. 

Eliot watched his face, watched the familiar way his eyes crinkled and his lips parted on a rush of air. Eliot had seen Hardison come before, had watched him fall forward across Parker’s body and murmur sweet nothings against her shoulder. 

But Eliot had never watched Hardison come because of  _ him _ . As the tingling pleasure of his orgasm ebbed, Eliot drank in every instant. A small corner of his heart wondered if this first time would also be the  _ only _ time. 

Cradling Hardison’s body, Eliot brushed a kiss across his temple. The hacker’s long limbs wrapped themselves around him, the two of them tussling on the mattress until Hardison’s softening cock slipped from Eliot’s hole and they both sighed. 

Words had never been Eliot’s strongest suit. He and Parker alike relied on Hardison for that. But as Hardison lifted his head, his lips merely curved into a sleepy, satisfied smile. 

Eliot felt a returning grin tug at the corner of his mouth. 

Somehow, between the two of them, they cleaned up, changing Eliot’s sheets and even managing to put the right clothes back on - more or less. 

By the time Parker returned, they’d settled on the sofa, Hardison’s arm stretched along the back with Eliot wedged against his side. 

“Hi!” Parker greeted them with her usual verve. 

A foot from the couch, she stopped, tipping her head to one side. “You two don’t usually cuddle.” 

A tendril of fear wrapped Eliot’s heart, his mouth going dry as words abandoned him. 

Hardison just shrugged. “Do you mind?” he asked. Despite the casual tone, Eliot could feel the tension in the body pressed so close against his. 

Parker dropped down on Eliot’s other side, draping her legs across his lap. 

“Of course not. If I minded, why would I have sent Hardison home to fetch the climbing rig I ‘left in Eliot’s bedroom’?” The air quotes around the word were so enthusiastic that the back of Parker’s hand slapped Hardison in the face. 

Eliot snorted a laugh. He’d been so absorbed in the aftermath of their activities, he hadn’t even thought to ask  _ why _ Hardison had materialized in his room. 

Judging by the gobsmacked look on Hardison’s face, he, too, had forgotten all about his supposed errand. 

“You -” He sputtered. 

Parker smiled serenely. “You were taking too long,” she said, as if that explained everything. 


End file.
